Shea

My last summer in the Okanagan ends with a bang.

Literally.

KJ, Hunter, and Jayden are setting off fireworks. Until fifty minutes ago, I didn't realize Hunter's parents had a summer lake house just off of Westside Road. It's mind-boggling. Why?

Because I love the place.

It's rustic but also modern, and the beach is flat and sandy, with the lake lapping against the shore. There's a bonfire about six metres away from the water, with three chairs surrounding it. A dock juts out into the water, which is where KJ, Hunter, and Jayden are.

My last shift went late at the café, so I missed out on the boating and sunbathing experience with the rest of them. I don't mind. Noah, Chelsea, my aunt, and Mom threw a little party for me. We had cake and coffee, and then Mom dropped me off here with a bag slung over my shoulder. My decision to stay overnight will depend on whether Brenna is staying. I'll do anything to spend the night by her side.

BANG!

"They look like morons," Brenna says.

Her voice causes me to jump. I didn't notice her join me, and when I glance at her, she's holding out a gin smash. I try to not wrinkle my nose. After our camping trip at Kootenay National Park, gin smashes are not my friends.

She flashes me a toothy grin. "Just kidding. This is your drink." Instead of a can, Brenna hands me a Yeti cup. It's filled with ice, tonic water, lime, and gin. "No sugar. So it's bitter as hell."

I return her grin. "It was the sugar that got me sick, Bren. Trust me." To prove my point, I take a sip of my drink. The sourness of the lime makes my toes curl in the sand. Sourness aside, it's a damn excellent drink.

BANG!

Their laughter rings across the beach as the fireworks light up the sky for a moment. Then it fades to black again.

Her expression is patronizing. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that, Smith."

We exchange a grin as the smell of burgers, hot dogs, and corn on the cob wafts through the air. Drew and Ella are working with the food up on the deck. Evren and Nick are sitting on the lounge chairs, playing an intense game of chess.

Prior to joining me, Brenna was up there, too. She was reading a book, but I assume she finished it. Once Brenna finds a book she enjoys, she devours it.

As for me? I finished prepping the salad and the toppings for the burger, then I came down here to survey. Today's the last day we'll all be able to see each other. Tomorrow afternoon, KJ leaves for Edmonton. Brenna is leaving on Saturday for Vancouver. I leave on Monday for Boston. Jayden will head to Nova Scotia. Evren and Hunter are staying in the Okanagan, attending UBCO. Catina and Ella are going to Victoria.

Everything is changing. It feels like too much, but I also feel excited. Even if I'll miss my friends.

Change. That's all I've been thinking about this summer. Okay, that's an exaggeration. This has been the best summer of my life. Brenna, me, and the rest of us did as much as we could. We went on hiking trips, road trips, stayed up late and sat by the bonfire—everything.

It's that same old bittersweet feeling.

"What are you most excited about?" Brenna asks me.

"Hockey," I snort. "Why else would I be leaving the Okanagan?"

"Fair enough," Brenna laughs. "Know what I'm excited about?"

I take another sip of my drink. "What?"

"Proving I won't be able to forget you."

My drink almost slips from my hand. When Brenna says things like this, I'm ready to cancel Boston and join her in Vancouver. There are too many pros to that plan. Ones that almost overpower my logic.

Good thing Brenna's logical.

"Don't get any ideas," she says. Her elbow collides with my ribcage. "You're going to Boston. Even if we'll miss each other like crazy."

I snort. 'Crazy' doesn't define how much I'll miss her. It would be like being benched for weeks because of an injury. Like sitting on the bench watching my team play hockey without me, wishing I could be there to help them win. To contribute to the game.

"You're anxious," Brenna observes.

"Yeah," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Things are looking good for Chels, but it's difficult to not act like a parent. It still feels like I'm betraying her. I feel like she needs me."

Brenna's mouth pulls up into a half-smile. "Or do you need her? Shea, you've been acting like her parent for almost two years. Does it feel like you're maybe losing purpose? You're not, just to clarify, but maybe that's how you feel?"

Despite having a spot on the team, I feel like I'm losing purpose. When I arrive in Boston, I'll be alone. Everyone will be a stranger. How am I supposed to adjust? To find a spot on the team? And then I have to become familiar with the area without access to a vehicle. Just a bus system and my feet. No one to guide me. To be my friend.

Careful with her drink, Brenna wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head on my chest. "You'll be fine, Shea. This is something you've wanted for a long time. Don't let fear overpower the opportunity. Missteps will happen, but you'll get used to the system. And we can visit each other during the holidays. Our families live here. We're bound to see each other at some point."

I can feel the pain. The longing. Everything. I can feel it in my bones. Staying friends is a good thing. Brenna and I have made the right decision. But fuck, why does it have to hurt so much? I feel like I'm losing a piece of myself. What if hockey gets to my head and I turn into an asshole again?

"It's a lot, don't you think?" I ask. "All this pressure about post-secondary and moving and change. Do people not realize how difficult it is to leave your hometown when it holds such wonderful memories? Everything will be new in Boston. The streets, the currency, the spelling. How am I supposed to spell 'colour' without a 'u'?"

Brenna snorts. "You're moving east and you're worried about spelling?"

I tip my head back and groan. "American spelling kills me, Bren. I fucking hate it."

She pats my shoulder. "Most Canadians do. It's understandable. I hate it when they call touques 'beanies.'"

Her comment earns a snort. The things I'm voicing are irrational, but it feels good to get them off of my chest. Fantastic.

When I glance at Brenna, she's gazing up at me. Her blue-violet eyes are the same colour as the indigo sky above us. As the water lapping against the shore.

"It's okay to be nervous," she whispers. "Being nervous means you're about to do something really great."

"You're stealing that quote from someone," I say.

Brenna shrugs. "Yeah, not sure who. Whoever it is, though, they can have full credibility."

We chuckle, lapsing into silence one more time. My laughter fades quickly, though. There's another truth sitting on my tongue. One that needs to be said.

"I don't want to leave you."

Brenna's lips part as she stares at me, staying silent.

"We're better as friends while we're attending university," I admit. "That's true. We need these experiences. But that doesn't mean I'm happy with the decision. I hate it. You're my everything, Brenna. Yeah, I'm selfish. That's a given. But I fucking hate this—even if it's needed. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

A breeze trickles through, bringing the musky smell of the lake with it. Strands of brown hair flitter across Brenna's face. My hand itches to brush them away, but I don't. If I touch her, I'll pull her in for a kiss. And I want to save that for later.

Her smile is sad. "Why do you think I keep saying I'll prove you wrong? That I'll think about you every day? This isn't the route I want to take. But we came to a mutual agreement. We're putting ourselves before the relationship. It'll be good for us." She pauses, a crease forming between her brows. "Plus, taking a break from romance doesn't mean we have to stop talking. We can stay in touch, Shea. This is not the last time we'll see each other."

Despite the firmness of her words, I still have to ask, "How do you know?"

She grins. "Because you're Shea Fucking Smith."

I snort. "Come on, Harrison. You know I'm not like that anymore."

Brenna tosses back the rest of her drink, then discards the can to the sand. She throws her arms around my neck and jumps up, wrapping her legs around my waist.

The movement causes me to lose my drink, but I don't care. I wrap my arms around her, supporting her.

She cups my face, trailing her thumbs across my cheekbones. Her hair falls around us like a curtain, shutting out the rest of the world. "You're not like that." Her voice is a mere whisper. "Not when you're on the ice. But when you're on the ice in Boston? You will tear it up and scare the hell out of everyone. Then, when you're drafted, the NHL won't know what hit them." She rests one hand over my heart. "Keep that fire burning, Smith."

I press a kiss to the tip of her nose. "What will I do without you?"

"Keep in touch," she replies. "Even if things get busy, we make time for each other."

I nod, and then my lips are on hers.

It's difficult to tell how long we kiss. Perhaps it's several seconds or several minutes. Either way, I'm trying to engrave this moment into my mind. To remember what her mouth feels and tastes like. I'll miss Brenna, but our decision is for the best.

We're stepping onto a blank slate. A new swath of ice, unmarked by any skates.

I'll miss her so fucking much, though.

After the kiss, Brenna presses her forehead against mine. We're both panting.

"Why are goodbyes so hard?" she whispers.

"Don't say that," I growl. "Promise me this isn't goodbye. Promise me."

Wiping away a single tear, Brenna holds her hand up. Her pinky finger is sticking out. "I promise."

My finger wraps around hers, and we seal the promise with another kiss.

"I'll miss you more," she whispers.

I snort. "Fuck that. I already miss you."

She pulls away, cocking an eyebrow. "Game on, Smith. Game on." 

I flash her a grin. "Game on, Harrison."